An Appearance of Goodness
by RiversOnFire
Summary: A Pride and Prejudice retelling set around the turn of the 21st century in the sleepy south
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It was a bright and sunny day when the good news reached Mrs. Bennet, hot as it often was during the summer. Life in the country could be boring at times; though, with 5 daughters, one would think a woman would have ample entertainment. Yet, Mrs. Bennet craved excitement, finding her daughters often too dull and ordinary, her husband's humor too dry. This news she heard while at the hairdresser was sure to liven things up around their small community.

When Mr. Bennet arrived home that evening, his wife had all but worked herself into a lather at the possibilities. Somehow, she was able to contain herself until he was through the door and had settled onto the couch, about to turn on the TV for a few minutes before dinner.

"Robert!" Mr. Bennet looked up at his wife's excited voice. "I've just heard the most wonderful news. Netherfield has finally been sold!" This information would have been understandably exciting, had Mrs. Bennet been a real estate agent who had just landed a big sale. That was not the case, however.

Not waiting for a response, she barreled on, "Mrs. Long has told me all about it. A young man, from Atlanta, very rich and apparently very handsome! Isn't it just so perfect for the girls?" She collapsed onto the couch next to her husband, fanning herself, apparently overwhelmed at the thought.

"For the girls? What do they have to do with it?" Mr. Bennet had an idea but was interested in seeing his wife's thought process. She was always sure to provide some entertainment to his equally as dull life.

Some of the aforementioned girls had wandered into the room upon hearing the commotion, wondering what all the fuss was about. "He will marry one of them, of course!" Mrs. Bennet was rewarded for this statement by the serious of shocked and incredulous sounds that came from her growing audience. Mrs. Bennet was not to be deterred by her daughters' indignation, however. "A single man with so much money must be on the hunt for a wife!" She proclaimed with authority. "Why else would he come out to the country and buy a house? He must have heard something of our charms and temptations!"

Lizzie couldn't help but smile at that, noting how little charm her younger sisters held at that moment, sprawled across the living room in their shorts and t-shirts, trying to escape the oppressive heat that settled in everywhere, even the air-conditioned rooms inside their large but cramped house. "Oh yes, and who better to marry this stranger but one of us," she joked, sharing an affectionate eye-roll with her father.

"So, that is his master plan, then, to settle in and marry one of the natives?" Mr. Bennet asked, enjoying this diversion for the moment.

Fixing him with a sharp look, his wife scowled. "Master plan? You act as if he is going to storm the White House! But, he might just fall in love with one of them. Would that be so bad?" Mrs. Bennet was getting tired of her husband's cynicism, at least where she and her daughters' lively hoods were at stake. "That's why you have to visit him."

That alarmed Mr. Bennet. "Visit him?" The idea of socializing with a complete stranger was abhorrent to him, even if it would benefit his daughters.

"Well, I can't very well go visit him on my own, can I? What would he think, a respectable woman coming to his house as soon as he's all right and settled?"

Mr. Bennet smiled at the thought. "No, we wouldn't want that. The poor kid might fall in love with you, for all we know!" The girls laughed at that, thinking about the ridiculous notion of a young, rich, handsome man falling in love with their mother. "Ah, I have just the thing!" He continued, ignoring the glare his wife shot him. "We should send the girls. He's sure to fall in love with the first one he lays eyes on, much like a baby duck."

This spurred another round of giggles from the girls. Mrs. Bennet had had enough of her husband's quips for the moment. Thankfully, the phone rang just then, giving her a viable excuse to extract herself from the conversation. The rest of the family could hear her wailing down the hall, through the open door to the kitchen. "Yes, Laura, I've heard the news. You won't believe what my husband said!" She glared at her husband through the doorway before promptly closing the door, drowning out further conversation.

Once Mrs. Bennet latched on to something, she wasn't likely to let it go. The next day, Jane and Lizzy were sitting in the sunroom reading quietly when their mother stomped in and flounced down on a chair. "Your father," she began as if they were picking up a conversation they had left off moments before. The girls knew through years of experience that a tirade was coming whenever she started out that way. "Is the most irritating man on the face of God's green earth." She paused, making sure that her daughters were paying attention.

"I'm sure he is just teasing you, mama," Jane said, setting aside her book obediently, "Of course he will go and say hello to our new neighbor, just as he would any newcomers to the area." Her mother huffed at that, not believing a word of her explanation.

Mr. Bennet appeared in the doorway behind his wife, smiling as his wife spoke. "No, Jane, you heard your father, he said it himself. And you know he is as stubborn as a mule." Mrs. Bennet crossed her arms petulantly.

Coming into the room, Mr. Bennet sat down across from his wife. Lizzie finally put her book down, too, realizing that she was not going to get any more reading done for the time being. "You're right, dear. How about this, I will send this Mr. Bingley a note. I'll tell him I have 5 daughters, all ripe for the picking. We could make a catalog of it, even, just like JC Penny's. We'll be sure to tell him that they're all very silly, though Lizzie has a bit more going on upstairs than the rest." With that, he smiled and winked at his second daughter, who grinned back.

They could hear a cry of offense coming through the open door to the study, where the rest of the girls had gathered to listen in on the conversation. "Then again," Mr. Bennet said after a moment's consideration, "he might prefer a stupid wife. He wouldn't be the first to make that choice."

Lizzie felt her father was being needlessly cruel. She needn't have worried; the insult, like most, flew over her mother's head. "Why do you find such humor in my despair?" Mrs. Bennet cried, getting up and waltzing out of the room with a flourish.

"Difficulties are often sent to test our faith and may even turn out to be blessings in disguise." All eyes swiveled to Mary, who was standing in the doorway wearing a serious expression. She was dressed in a long black skirt and white button-up blouse, which looked absolutely stifling in the summer heat.

Poking her head around her dour sister, Lydia frowned. "I hope your games don't keep mom from making dinner. I'm starving!" She pulled back into the study and called after her mother, "Mom! When're we eating?"

It was an embarrassing but not uncommon display in the Bennet house. Mary had recently decided to take up religion, choosing a small Holiness church that suited her restrained personality. There was no end to the shocking and slightly ridiculous things she said at the most inopportune times.

After dinner, which was made by Lizzie and Jane, since their mother was far too indisposed to cook, the two oldest sisters lay outside on the trampoline, looking at the stars. "It would be nice, though, to find a man who could love me despite our ridiculous family," Lizzie sighed out of the blue.

"Yeah?" Jane sat up, not even realizing her sister considered such things.

Lizzie sat up too, brushing the pollen off her back and out of her hair. "But any man like that would probably be crazy, too, and I could never love someone who belonged in the looney bin." She stood up, jumping a few times before falling back onto her back and rolling off the trampoline.

Climbing down after her, Jane followed her sister back towards the house. "I just want a marriage where we can respect each other. Without that, no one can be happy," she said sadly, thinking of one marriage in particular.

"As we see proven every day," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. "But I guess beggars can't be choosers."

Jane shook her head dismissively. "Things aren't so bad, Lizzie. I'm sure all of us will find someone."

They stopped to sit on the small back porch, choosing to finish their conversation in private before going back into the crowded house, where it seemed even the walls had ears. "With the house willed to our cousin and such limited job prospects, at least one of us needs to marry up. We don't have much, except our charm and sense of humor, really. And since you're ten times prettier than any of us, and at least twice as charming, I'm afraid it will fall on you to marry rich and provide for the rest of us into our old age." Lizzie smiled at her sister to soften the joke but could tell Jane didn't appreciate her talking in such a way.

"I don't know about you, Liz, but I plan on marrying for love." And with that, she stood up and went into the house, leaving her sister to contemplate what she meant.


	2. Chapter 2

The weekends were not much different than the weekdays at the Bennet house, save for the fact that Mr. Bennet was home a bit more. Most weekends he spent out in manly pursuits or holed up in his library for much-needed silence and solitude. Jane worked some days at the library, helping the old librarian out where she could. Saturdays in the summer were her favorite; most weekends she tried to plan activities for the children in town, whether it be a reading or a special visitor.

It was dark and cool in the small library. A two-room block building, the blinds were usually closed enough to keep the heat of the sun out, but open enough to provide light for reading, if you were close enough. In the back shelves of the building, one had to squint to read some of the titles on the faded spines of the old books. It reminded Lizzie of a strangely comfortable cave. It was pleasantly cooled but with little air circulation, stuffy in the way of a grandparent's attic. The smell of dusty books was almost oppressive, yet it welcomed and calmed her as soon as she stepped through the door. It was practically a second home to her and Jane, close enough to walk to, they'd been coming on their own since they were very young, walking the short distance under the watchful eye of everyone in town.

In the summer the library provided lunches for the kids who would normally get their food from school. Lizzie liked helping out with the children, giving them meals that they couldn't get at home. The two sisters were just cleaning up when Lydia and Catie poked their heads in the library door. "Wait until you hear our news!" Lydia cried before running off again, leaving the door banging behind her. Lizzie and Jane smiled and looked at each other, shrugging, knowing they would hear whatever news it was as soon as they made their way home.

"Mr. Bingley has moved into Netherfield!" Lydia announced later, once her full audience was gathered in the living room.

Catie couldn't keep quiet. "And Mr. Lucas has gone to see him!" She exclaimed, ignoring the irritated look her younger sister shot at her.

There was a dramatic sigh from the corner of the room, where Mrs. Bennet was curled up with a gossip magazine. "I don't even want to hear it! Why do we care what Mr. Bingley says or does since we're set to be strangers forever?" Lizzie covered a smile at her mother's antics.

A loud sneeze interrupted the conversation and all eyes turned towards Catie. "Heavens to Betsy, Catie, do you have to sneeze so violently?" Mrs. Bennet chided.

"I don't do it for fun!" Catie cried indignantly between sneezes.

Lydia ignored both of them, continuing on with her news. "And he has a personal chef and a chauffeur!" Jane raised her eyebrows delicately at that.

"He told Mr. Lucas that he loves dancing!" There was no end to the proclamations of the two silliest Bennet girls, each one trying to one-up the other.

Now they were talking over one another- "And he promised to come to the next First Friday!"

"Next week!" The shrieking was growing to an earsplitting decibel.

Mrs. Bennet had had enough. "Girls! Please! Y'all stop talking about Mr. Bingley since we will never know him anyway!"

Pouty faces were instantly directed her way. "But mom!" Lydia cried as if it were the end of the world.

"I am sick and tired of hearing about Mr. Bingley!" Mrs. Bennet proclaimed, slamming down her magazine.

A sly smile slid over Mr. Bennet's face as he lowered the newspaper he had been pretending to read. "That's too bad," he said quietly. Every pair of eyes in the room turned towards him. "If I'd have known sooner, it would've saved me the trouble of visiting him."

There was a pause while his words sunk in. "You've been to Netherfield?" Mrs. Bennet asked in disbelief.

"I'm afraid we can't avoid the association now," Mr. Bennet said, raising his newspaper back to hide his smile.

The room erupted in excitement. "Oh, Robert, you are a doll!" Mrs. Bennet jumped up and kissed her husband's cheek before prancing around the room. "Come on, girls, we need to pick out your outfits for Friday!" Only Lydia and Catie follow their mother down the hall, the rest of the family watching after them in varying degrees of affection.

* * *

The oppressive heat made Darcy loath to leave the delicious airconditioned house. But he had promised his best friend that he would venture out to the "First Friday" that the whole town was buzzing about. Charlie thought it was a charming small-town tradition, while Darcy thought it was a poor excuse for people to gawk at each other.

"Do you think it's safe to be walking after dark?" Charlie's sister, Caroline, said, sidling up to Darcy with a scowl on her delicate face. It wasn't an attractive look.

Charlie's other sister, Louisa, and her husband stepped out of the house behind Caroline, visibly wilting in the humidity. "Sounds like a damn stupid way to spend the evening," Hurst complained in his normal grumpy tone of voice. Charlie locked up the house behind the group, smiling good-naturedly and shooing them along down the driveway.

There was already a bead of sweat snaking its way down Darcy's back. He just prayed to God that Charlie would get bored sooner rather than later, banking on his friend's short attention span to make an appearance. He was sure there couldn't be anything at the small-town function to interest him for long.

They could hear the music down the street, lively and loud. It seemed the entire town had turned out for the event. There were booths up and down the main street, local artists and craftsmen selling their wares. On the main crossroads of town, a stage was set up, where an obviously local band was rocking out with classic songs perfect for dancing.

Despite the large crowd, the group of newcomers' arrival hardly went unnoticed. As soon as they were within sight distance, heads were turning to catch a glimpse. Mr. Lucas appeared at their side more quickly than Darcy thought was possible.

"Mr. Bingley! How good for you to come!" The older gentleman shook Charlie's hand affectionately as if they were old friends and not new acquaintances. "Please, let me introduce you to everyone." With that, he swept the group along, willingly or unwillingly. Charlie looked absolutely thrilled at the prospects of meeting new people, while Darcy cringed at the idea of being paraded around like a show pony.

Across the street, Lizzie stared at the group with undisguised interest. "The two girls with him, do you know them?" She asked Charlotte Lucas, her best friend. If anyone knew the breakdown of the who's who in the new group, it would be Charlotte.

"His sisters, from what dad told me," Charlotte said, pointing discretely. "One of them is married to that man there, Mr. Hurst."

Jane had wandered over to get the scoop, as well. "The tall one?" She asked, noticing the tall, handsome man with a small scowl on his face.

Shaking her head, Charlotte motioned to the left. "No, the other one." The man in question was shorter, a little full around the middle, and looked incredibly bored.

"Even better," Jane joked, making the other two girls smile. "He seems very elegant." Lizzie wasn't sure that was a compliment, though she knew her sister would never say a harsh word about a stranger.

Lizzie watched them closely for a few moments, noting that aside from Mr. Bingley, none of the group looked happy to be there. "Doesn't seem like they like what they see," she commented as another grimace crossed the prettiest girl's face.

The oldest Bennet sisters were distracted by someone hissing their names nearby. Looking around, they saw their mother frantically motioning them over. "See that man over there?" She said once they came closer. "Mrs. Lucas says he is Mr. Bingley's oldest and richest friend. Darcy, I think his name is. He's even richer than Bingley and has a huge Plantation in Mississippi! Don't you think he is the most handsome man y'all have ever seen?" Their mother rambled away, not waiting for a response from her daughters.

"I wonder if he would be half as handsome if he wasn't so rich?" Lizzie murmured to her sister. Jane snickered behind her hand before noticing that Mr. Lucas and Mr. Bingley were making their way over towards them.

The movement didn't escape Mrs. Bennet's notice, either. "Jane! Lizzie! They're coming over here!" She fanned herself dramatically. "Smile, look alive!"

Mr. Lucas stopped the group in front of the Bennet women, smiling broadly. "Mrs. Bennet! Charlie here has said he wanted to meet your daughters, I hope that is okay?" Lizzie smiled inwardly at the fact that Mr. Lucas was already on a first-name basis with his new friend.

"Absolutely! This is Jane, my oldest," she said, pushing the daughter in question forward. Jane smiled shyly at Mr. Bingley before taking the hand he offered. "Then here is Lizzie, and Mary is sitting on the bench over there. Oh, where are Catie and Lydia? Yes, there, over there dancing!" She pointed to the two youngest girls dancing wildly and laughing. "They love dancing, my girls. Do you like to dance Mr. Bingley?"

Charlie had been staring at Jane during the whole tirade but managed to pull his attention back to Mrs. Bennet when she asked him her question. "Hm? Oh, yeah, I love to dance, too. Jane, if you're not otherwise engaged, would you mind taking a turn with me? I'm afraid I'm not the best at country dances, but I'm sure you could show me the ropes." He smiled warmly at the pretty stranger that he hoped to get to know better.

Blushing, Jane nodded, "Of course, I'd love to." She blushed again at her phrasing, making Charlie's smile wider.

While Jane was busy making eyes at Mr. Bingley, Lizzie was watching the irritated expression that was written on Mr. Darcy's face. She cleared her throat, nudging her mother in motioning towards the taller man. "Oh!" Mrs. Bennet instantly caught her drift. "Mr. Darcy, do you also like to dance?" She asked as politely as she was capable.

A look of confusion crossed Darcy's face as he wondered how this stranger knew his name. He shouldn't have been surprised, though, that news traveled fast in a small town. He was even more disturbed at being asked personal questions by people he didn't know.

Charlie, for his part, hadn't seemed to realize that Mr. Darcy had followed them over. "Oh, I'm sorry! I haven't introduced you. This is Darcy, my best friend." He smiled and gestured to his friend, who just nodded and crossed his arms.

"Welcome to town!" Mrs. Bennet said enthusiastically, putting on her brightest smile. "I do hope you've brought your dancing shoes like your friend here." She beamed at Charlie, who was back to staring at Jane.

For a moment Lizzie thought the tall man wasn't going to respond. "Thank you, but I'm not overly fond of dancing," he said finally, his deep voice pouring out and filling the air between them. His accent was different than the rural Alabama drawl that was common among her family and acquaintances. It was fainter but more polished, representative of the upper-class southern people that held their selves separate from the masses.

Mrs. Bennet was not deterred by his apparent lack of interest. "Well, let this be an exception then. I'm sure you'll never see such a lively bunch of lovely dance partners. We know how to have a good time!" She gestured towards Lizzie, hinting that she was free for a turn on the dance floor.

There was an awkward silence, forcing Lizzie's eyes down in embarrassment. Darcy looked at her, his mind turning while struggling to come up with the right words to brush her off. He couldn't think of anything, instead, he gave a small nod and turned on his heel. Charlie saw the change in the women's faces before noticing that his friend had walked away. He hadn't been paying close enough attention to know what Darcy had done but knew instantly that he'd offended the Bennet girls.

"Um, I'm sorry," he said, looking torn between playing damage control and following after his friend. He finally made up his mind, mumbling "excuse me," and walking away.

The Bennet women stood in stunned silence for a breath. "Good Lord, someone is too big for his britches!" Mrs. Bennet burst out.

Her voice carried farther than Lizzie was comfortable with. "Mother," she hissed, "They'll hear you." As if she hadn't been subject to enough embarrassment for one day.

"Do I care?" She continued in the same tone and volume. "When his friend is so kind and charming, he should be ashamed. Who does he think he is?" Mrs. Bennet was getting more fired up by the moment.

Lizzie shook her head, giving up. "I reckon the rich and fabulous don't have to worry about what us common folk think about them," she said, "We don't have to care what he thinks, either." She tried to hide her own hurt ego at his rejection.

Crossing her arms, Mrs. Bennet huffed. "I suppose you're right," she said.

"I guess he's not so handsome, after all," Lizzie said, smiling.

They all looked over to where the men were standing, talking among their own group. "I should say not. He's nothing compared to Mr. Bingley, that's for sure." She huffed again and stomped away.

It wasn't long before Charlie circled back around to collect his promised dance. Lizzie watched them from the sidelines, glad to see how happy her sister looked. They looked good together, Jane and Mr. Bingley. Lizzie hoped he would stick around long enough to liven things up around town.

Darcy was also watching the two as they danced. The stars in Charlie's eyes were visible from a mile away. His friend gave him a loaded look, raising his eyebrows as if to say "see, you could be having fun, too." Darcy just smirked back, looking around at the crowd. He spotted that Mrs. Bennet glaring at him, talking with some other middle-aged ladies he had yet to meet. It didn't take much to imagine what she was saying to them.

During a break in the music, Charlie took Jane over to meet his sisters. She felt shy around such posh ladies but was secretly pleased that he went out of his way to make sure she met his family. Darcy watched this development with growing displeasure. That feeling increased when Charlie led her back onto the dance floor for another round.

Sitting on a bench with Mary, Lizzie smiled as she saw Jane and Charlie dancing again. "I don't understand Kitty and Lydia," Mary said suddenly. "They love dancing so much, I don't get it."

Lizzie glanced over at her sister, sitting with her hands folded primly and a frown on her face. If there was anyone she didn't understand, it was Mary. "I would enjoy dancing more if I had a dance partner as sweet as Jane's," she said.

"I think silence and meditation are far more rewarding," Mary said stiffly.

There wasn't much to say to that, so Lizzie just shook her head. "I'm sure they are," she said. She could hear Jane laughing as she wandered off the dance floor to find something to drink. Mr. Bingley watched her for a moment before smiling and going to rejoin Darcy.

He found his friend holding up a wall on the edge of the crowd. "Come on, Darcy, live a little. You're embarrassing me, standing around like someone killed your cat or something. Come dance." He elbowed him in the ribs good-naturedly.

Darcy just shook his head and scowled. "Absolutely not," he said more forcefully than he meant to. "I'm not going to dance a jig at a country hoedown. It's unseemly." Bingley ignored the pointed jab with his normal grace and charm.

Another person was listening that wasn't quite so generous. Lizzie could easily pick up the men's conversation from her vantage point on the bench. "Against all odds, your sisters were convinced to dance. And you know it would be torture for me to dance with anyone here but them," she heard Darcy continue. Her eyebrows shot up to new heights as he insulted the entire town.

"Jesus, Darcy! Your standards are practically unreachable, then. I've never met so many charming women in my life. And some of them are quite pretty, too, aren't they?" Bingley shook his head at how ridiculous his friend was being.

Looking around, Darcy shook his head. "You've been dancing with the only pretty girl here, Charlie," he said.

That was all the encouragement Charlie needed to gush about his new crush. "Isn't she just gorgeous, Darcy? I've never met anyone like her." This earned him a solid eye-roll from his best friend. "Look, there's one of her sisters," Charlie gestured toward the bench where Lizzie was sitting. "She's cute. She seemed sweet, too."

Darcy looked over and scowled. "She's not hideous, I guess, but not nearly pretty enough to tempt me." Lizzie's eyes widened at the insult and she had to struggle to keep from shaking with laughter. "Listen, Bingley, I'm not in the mood to dance with rejected women who can't find other partners. Get back to your new lady friend. Enjoy yourself. You're not going to change my mind."

Shrugging, Charlie pushed off the wall with a crooked smile, always amazed at how moody his best friend could be. Lizzie stood up quickly, grinning, before running off to tell Charlotte what she'd just overheard. _Not nearly pretty enough to tempt him! What a joke!_


	3. Chapter 3

It was late by the time the Bennet girls got home. Mr. Bennet had enjoyed his evening alone, spent reading in his office, savoring the peace and quiet that was rare with 5 daughters. That peace was shattered once Lydia raced into the room, followed closely by her sisters and finally, Mrs. Bennet. "The girls were the bells of the ball, especially Jane!" She told her husband excitedly, settling herself into the office as if she planned to stay awhile. Mr. Bennet sighed and set aside his book, mentally preparing himself to hear all the inane details of their evening.

Lydia and Catie giggled, flopping on the floor with all the grace of a baby giraffe. "Ugh, I ate so much! Look how fat I am!" Lydia puffed her flat stomach out dramatically, earning another giggle from her closest sister.

"Me and Lydia danced to every song," Catie said proudly.

Mrs. Bennet nodded, confirming that they did, indeed, dance to every song, or no it was meant for dancing. "Mr. Bingley seemed to enjoy Jane's company more than any other young lady there," she told her husband. "He danced twice with Jane, then once with Charlotte, which of course was out of pity, then with Jane again! Later he danced with Lizzie, but then guess what he did?"

He had heard enough. "Please, spare me the details of his every last dance! I wish he had sprained his ankle on the first dance if that meant I didn't have to hear about him anymore." Lizzie hid a smile at her father's exaggerated exasperation.

"And his sisters, such charming young ladies." Mrs. Bennet paid no attention to her husband's protests. "I wish you could have seen them, so lovely, and such snazzy dressers. Mrs. Hurst's purse must have cost a fortune."

Mr. Bennet was beginning to wish he had locked the office door. "No purses, dear, I'm begging you." He held up his hands in a silent prayer that God would strike him down and put him out of his misery.

That reminded Mrs. Bennet of something. "Oh, but that man Mr. Bingley brought with him, they call him Darcy. He's not worth the salt of our tears. He may be rich and handsome, but I declare there is not a more self-righteous, uptight man in the entire world. He even insulted poor sweet Lizzie!"

Her words finally struck on something that Mr. Bennet cared about. "Insulted my Lizzie, did he?" He laughed quietly, imagining the words Lizzie would have for any man that dared insult her.

"I'm not his biggest fan, either, so it doesn't matter," Lizzie added, brushing off the remaining sting of Darcy's comment.

Mrs. Bennet didn't let the man in question off the hook so easily. "I would, hands down, refuse him next time, if he asks you to dance," she said, crossing her arms.

That made Lizzie chuckle. "I'm sure I can safely promise to never dance with him, mom." She doubted he would ever have another chance to ask her, anyway.

Even though it was still stifling hot during the day, the nights had started to cool a bit. Charlie was taking full advantage of this, convincing everyone to sit on the screened-in porch as they wound down the evening. He enjoyed watching the lightning bugs flashing through the garden of his new home.

There was little peace and quiet, though, with his sisters around. "None of the country ladies caught your fancy, then, Darcy?" Caroline asked with a smirk. She had seen his dour expression all night, secretly pleased that the charms of the quiet country town hadn't swayed him.

"Not even the famous Jane Bennet?" Louisa added, cutting her eyes towards her brother.

Charlie glanced up at his sisters with a glare. "Well, I think they're the nicest people in the world. Some of the prettiest, too." The siblings smirked menacingly at each other.

Deciding to finally join the conversation, Darcy shook his head. "The oldest miss Bennet is, I admit, very pretty."

"Just 'very pretty'?" Charlie was incredulous. "Come on, Darce, she's an angel."

Darcy smirked at his friend. "I think she smiles too much."

The girls giggled delicately. "Come on now, Jane seems like a very sweet girl," Caroline said. "But her mother!"

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Charlie gave up.

"Though, I have heard that Lizzie Bennet is considered a great beauty around here," Caroline continued. "What do you think, Darcy?"

The question made Darcy distinctly uncomfortable, so he stood up and walked to the window. "I'd sooner call her mother witty," he said.

His comment was met with laughter from the girls. "Oh, Darcy, be nice," Caroline said playfully.

There was suddenly someone standing next to him at the window. "I'll never understand why you're bound and determined to see the bad in everyone," Charlie said, looking at his friend with concern.

"And I'll never understand why you try so hard to make everyone seem as good as you," Darcy responded, turning away. He wasn't in the mood for his friend's attempts to rectify the flaws in his character.

Charlie sighed, realizing that now wasn't the time. "Well, you won't make me think badly of Jane, at least."

His sisters had been listening intently to the private part of their conversation. "Definitely not," Caroline said, deciding to butt in. "I'll brave Darcy's disapproving stare and say she is very sweet, despite her somewhat unfortunate family situation. I would enjoy getting to know her better."

"Oh, yes," Louisa added, "I would like that. See, Darcy, we are not afraid of you."

Shaking his head, Darcy scowled. "I'd never have thought you were," he grumbled.

From the corner, Mr. Hurst woke himself up with a particularly large snore. "What's all this? Right, a damn stupid evening, after all." With that he got up and went off to bed, his wife following behind with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

The warm days made the girls lazy, and though they could have found something productive to do, instead the two oldest Bennet sisters had propped themselves up out by the creek, toes in the water. "He's everything I could ever want in a man, Lizzie," Jane fell back onto the mossy bank with a sigh. "Smart, kind, energetic… I've never met anyone like him."

"Very handsome, too, that's always a good thing." Lizzie laughed when Jane splashed her. "He does seem to like you. I guess that shows he has good judgment. You have my permission to like him. Lord knows you've made worse choices."

A bigger splash from Jane left Lizzie sputtering in amusement. "If only he had better taste in friends and family, though I suppose he can't help who he is related to," Lizzie added.

Jane sat up suddenly at that proclamation. "You didn't like them?" She asked her sister, worried.

Sensing that her sister was really concerned about her opinion, Lizzie tried to be nicer. "Well, they are definitely different than their brother," she said vaguely.

"Maybe at first," Jane responded, "But after a while, I thought they warmed up. Caroline is going to help her brother around the house. I'm sure they'll be very nice neighbors."

Lizzie grinned at her sister. "At least one of them," she said coyly.

Rolling her eyes, Jane stood up and brushed off her shorts. "I think you're wrong about them," she said boldly. "Even Darcy might get better with time."

"Oh, do you think he'll be in the mood to pay attention to young ladies who have been rejected by other men?" Lizzie asked, jumping up and clapping her hands excitedly.

Jane shook her head at her sister's dramatics. "It was very rude of him to say that," she said softly, worrying that Lizzie's feelings were hurt more than she let on.

Together they walked through the pasture back towards the house. "Sure, it was, a capital offense," Lizzie said, brushing it off. "It looks like Charlotte is here!" They could see their friend coming up the driveway as the came around the back of the house.

"Lizzie, Jane!" Charlotte called, breaking into a jog to meet up with the other two girls. "My dad has decided to have a party at the Lodge, I wanted to come to invite you both!" The three of them went inside to tell the rest of the family, knowing that such an invitation would not be rejected by any of the ladies in the family.

Lucas Lodge was set back into a grove of trees, a stately old house with ample room for entertaining. Mr. Lucas was known for his house parties, which often went on into the late hours of the night and were filled with food, drinks, and dancing. There was nothing in the world that Charlotte's father enjoyed more than to have their home filled to the brim with happy people.

The Bingley sisters found themselves cornered by Mr. Lucas early in the night. "I hope this is just the first of many evening y'all will spend here," he gushed, not realizing that they were desperate to escape. "As you can see, we are very relaxed around here, no need to worry about pretense and awkwardness."

A haughty nose was raised in response. "So I've noticed," Caroline said, failing to wiggle her way past the host. She was almost knocked down by a careless child in her haste to get away.

"Oh yes, he's quite well off." The unmistakable voice of Mrs. Bennet wafted over the ambient noise of the crowd. Caroline wondered if she were talking about Charles or Darcy. Neither option thrilled her. She spied one of the younger Bennet girls chatting with a group of unrefined young men across the room. "I dare say he danced almost every song with Jane. It really seemed like he couldn't get enough of her." It seemed like Caroline couldn't escape that woman's shrill gloating. She inched toward the bathroom in hopes that she could get a break from the unruly crowd.

Mrs. Lucas was busy playing her role as dutiful hostess, making sure that everyone was having a pleasant time. "So, Mr. Forster, are you enjoying your time here in the Tennessee Valley?" She asked the older gentleman that she'd stopped to speak with. He was standing with his wife and Mrs. Bennet, who had been talking with the couple.

The man smiled at Mrs. Lucas. "Very much so, ma'am, and even more this evening. I'm afraid the locals don't always take so kindly to us when we come to town." Mr. Forster had been sent to the area by the government as part of a team of workers who specialized in building and maintaining infrastructure. Many local people thought the engineers and builders were taking valuable jobs from town citizens. Never mind that none of the townspeople had the skills needed for the job.

A burst of laughter nearby caught the group's attention. The adults smiled at the scene, remembering when they were young and energetic. "Denny and Sanderson seem like they're enjoying themselves," Mrs. Forster commented, nodding at the two young men who were being thoroughly entertained by Lydia and Catie Bennet. Mrs. Bennet beamed at the implication.

"You must know the governor, then, living so close in Atlanta," Mr. Lucas asked Caroline, having heard that the Bingley's had a house in Buckhead.

Caroline discretely rolled her eyes at her sister. As if everyone in Atlanta knew each other. "No, I don't believe I've met him," she said, her tone dripping with thinly veiled sarcasm.

Her answer apparently surprised Mr. Lucas, as his eyebrows shot up dramatically. "Well, we'll have to remedy that! I'll be sure to introduce you sometime." Mr. Lucas had made it small time in local government, which earned him invitations to events that he otherwise had no business attending. It was not something he let anyone forget, either.

That was the last straw for Caroline. "Oh, you're too kind," she said with an awkward half-bow and sidestep into the crowd. Before Mr. Lucas realized what was happening, the sisters had staged their escape. "The nerve, to think we need his help in society," Caroline mumbled to her sister as they found a place to sit.

"Come on, he seems like a nice person," Louisa chastised her sister.

A cruel smile crept across Caroline's face. "And I'm sure he kept a very nice farm before he was elected commissioner or whatever he is." Louisa couldn't help but laugh along at Caroline's jab.

There was some commotion across the room that drew their attention. The music stopped suddenly; Mary had been playing the piano in the corner, but she was embroiled in an argument with her youngest sister. Caroline watched in amusement at the drama, though she couldn't quite hear what was said. Eventually, Lydia pranced away in triumph as Mary began to play something more upbeat.

"Jane, Charlie, come dance with us!" Lydia called to her sister who was sitting at the edge of the crowd talking with Bingley.

Jane blushed at the sudden attention, shaking her head. "Not right now, Lydia," she said, though Charlie looked a bit disappointed in the rejected invitation. He wouldn't have minded dancing again with his lovely new paramour.

None of this escaped Darcy's eagle eyes. He was once again leaning against the wall, watching the crowd carefully. There was one person that he watched more than the others, though he would never admit to it.

Not for the first time that night, Lizzie felt as if someone were staring at her. She turned, catching Darcy's eye for a brief moment before he looked away. "I see that Mr. Bingley is still enjoying Jane's company," Charlotte commented, watching the couple talking, sitting more closely together than was necessary.

"I'm happy for her," Lizzie said with a small smile.

Charlotte nodded, considering her friend carefully. "She does seem smitten," she said.

Smitten was putting it lightly, Lizzie thought. "I'm afraid if he keeps this up, she might be halfway in love with him before she knows what's happening."

"And do you think Bingley is on his way to being in love, too?" Charlotte asked the question that was on Lizzie's mind.

Sighing, Lizzie shrugged. "He does seem to like her, don't you think?" It was something that she had been worrying about all night. It wasn't like Jane to spend so much time with one guy; she'd rarely shown particular interest for anyone.

"Then she should tell him how she feels. She needs to leave no doubt in his mind what she's thinking if she wants to catch him," Charlotte said with authority.

Lizzie let out a disbelieving laugh. "Catch him? Good lord, Charlotte, he's not a fish."

That made Charlotte grin. "Well, he's definitely not going to get any encouragement from his sisters," she said, looking disdainfully at the two women.

"Or his friend," Lizzie added, causing both of them to look over at Darcy. His gaze was already focused on the two of them, and this time he didn't look away quite as quickly.

Charlotte caught the look between the two. "Darcy keeps looking at you, Lizzie," she said, nudging her friend suggestively.

"I can't imagine why," Lizzie said. "Unless he wants to scare me off with his contempt. He makes me uncomfortable." She turned pointedly away so he was out of her line of sight.

Frowning, Darcy turned his attention away from the two chatting young women. He thought he knew what they were talking about. He scowled, hoping that his irate expression would fend off any attempts at conversation.

It was not to be. "Isn't it just so nice, for the young people to be able to dance carefree," Mr. Lucas said, coming to stand beside Darcy. "It is one of the most wholesome forms of entertainment."

Darcy mumbled something that Mr. Lucas didn't quite catch. "What was that?" he asked.

"Even criminals can dance," Darcy said more clearly.

The host wasn't sure what to make of that. "Oh, well, yes. Sure," he stuttered, grasping for something else to say. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, watching the younger Bennet girls spinning in circles with their partners.

Lizzie was also watching her sister, noting the unmistakable quality of her dancing that meant she had been drinking something stronger than the punch. "I better go stop Lydia before she barfs all over the floor," she said, sighing as she stood up.

She had almost made it to her sister when Mr. Lucas reached out to stop her. "Ah, Lizzie! Why are you not dancing?" Lizzie's heart dropped when she saw who was standing with him. "Darcy, why don't you take Lizzie for a turn on the dance floor? I'm sure you can't refuse such a lovely partner, no matter how much you dislike dancing." Mr. Lucas looked proud of his matchmaking skills.

"Thank you," she cut in before Darcy could say anything. "But I hadn't planned on dancing. I hope you don't think I came this way to search for a partner," she said jokingly, trying to lighten the awkwardness of the situation.

Darcy didn't even crack a smile. "I would like it very much if you would agree to dance with me, Elizabeth," he said stiffly.

The way he used her proper name sent chills up Lizzie's spine. "Um, thanks," she sputtered, "but I'm not in the mood to dance." She didn't think she could handle it, especially if he kept looking at her as intensely as he was at that moment.

Mr. Lucas was not pleased with her rejection. "Come on, now, why not? Darcy has even agreed to it, and we all know how he feels about dancing in general."

"Mr. Darcy is very kind," Lizzie mumbled, dying to escape.

Smiling, Mr. Lucas nodded. "Isn't he? And why shouldn't he be? No one could reject such a wonderful dance partner."

Recent history had proven his statement untrue, as both Lizzie and Darcy well knew. "Excuse me," Lizzie said suddenly, "I have to go." In her rush to leave the conversation, she couldn't even come up with a good excuse.

Something caught Mr. Lucas's attention across the room, giving him a reason to also leave the uncomfortable silence after Lizzie left. Darcy was once again on his own, free to stare at Lizzie as she made her way towards her sister.

"I bet I can guess what you're thinking," Caroline's voice startled him, though he didn't show it. She was almost like a snake, slithering up next to her prey before they knew what was happening.

Darcy suppressed a shiver at the thought. "I doubt that," he said dryly.

She was standing uncomfortably close. "You were thinking how terrible it's going to be to spend too many more evenings with these people," she said, so sure that he would agree with her assessment.

"No, quite the opposite, my thoughts were much more pleasant." He said, enjoying the way she stiffened in irritation. "I was thinking about how much a pair of fine eyes can add to the beauty of a woman." The eyes in question were fixed on the youngest Bennet girl, who was being scolded in the corner by Lizzie.

Caroline's breath caught in her throat as her eyebrows shot up. "And who could it be that inspired such a grand epiphany?" She asked, struggling and failing to sound nonchalant.

A small smirk twitched at the corner of Darcy's mouth as he considered whether he would answer her question. "Elizabeth Bennet," he said, deciding it was worth it to see Caroline's reaction. She was too easy.

"Lizzie Bennet?" She asked, hoping she had heard wrong. Seeing Darcy nod, she followed his gaze, where Lizzie was standing and talking to a group of young men. Caroline let out an ugly snort. "Color me surprised," she said, stepping away and shaking her head. She wondered if Darcy had been drinking whatever spiked drinks that the youngest Bennet girl had obviously gotten in to. He didn't even notice when Caroline walked away in a huff.


	4. Chapter 4

All the Bennets were sitting down for breakfast when the phone rang. "Oh, who could that be, calling this early?" Mrs. Bennet huffed, standing up and stalking towards the phone. The rest of the family started eating, not paying much attention to Mrs. Bennet's dramatics.

"Oh, Caroline! How good of you to call!" Her voice carried, grabbing everyone's attention. Lydia and Catie jumped up, jostling the table in their hurry to crowd around their mother and the phone. Jane shot Lizzie a concerned look but stayed seated, straining to hear at least their mother's side of the conversation.

"Dinner? Well, that sounds wonderful." A pause as Mrs. Bennet listened. "Ah, the men will be out for the evening, I see. Well, I'll let Jane know, I'm sure she will be happy to join y'all." There was a resounding click before Mrs. Bennet and the two youngest girls flounced back into the dining room. "That was Caroline Bingley," she pronounced as she settled back down to eat.

They all waited for her to get to the point, but she relished in their attention. "She has invited Jane over for dinner tonight. Unfortunately, the men will not be there," she frowned a bit, "but I suppose it's still worthwhile."

Jane smiled, not disturbed at the lack of men for dinner. "Can I take the Chevy, Dad?" she asked.

"The Chevy! Lord, no, you should ride your bike! It looks like it's going to storm tonight. Maybe they'll just offer to let you stay," Mrs. Bennet grinned.

Lizzie and Jane stared at their mother incredulously. "Mom!" Jane said, shaking her head.

It didn't faze Mrs. Bennet. "Stop looking at me like that. You'd really want to go to Netherfield and not see Bingley? Of course not. You'll take your bike, and it will all work out."

The oldest girls looked to their father for help. He just shook his head, shrugging. He was a man who had to choose his battles carefully, and this was not one worth winning. Lizzie rolled her eyes and finished eating, glad that Jane at least was pleased with the invitation.

Later that evening, Lizzie looked worriedly at the clouds gathering in the sky as she watched Jane hop on her bike and ride away. It was only a few minutes later that the rain started, and a few more until the thunder rumbled through the house. Summer storms popped up suddenly and could turn dangerous before you knew what was happening.

When the tornado sirens sounded through the town, Mrs. Bennet couldn't hide her grin as she ushered her family into the cellar. "Surely they wouldn't send Jane home in this mess! It looks like it would be safer for her to just stay the night." She clapped her hands in delight as another round of thunder shook the house. Lizzie frowned at her father, wishing he would say something, anything, to his ridiculous wife. He pretended he didn't see her glare and made his way down the cellar stairs.

* * *

Jane was soaking wet and shivering by the time she arrived at Netherfield. The sisters were surprised when she rolled up on her bicycle since the sky had been threatening rain for most of the day. "Oh, dear, come inside and let's get you dry," Caroline said, stepping back so Jane didn't drip water on her silk blouse. Louisa went in search of a towel, and within a few minutes, Jane was wrapped up and settled on a stool in the kitchen while Caroline found her something dry to change into.

Dinner was as low-key as it could be with Caroline involved. It felt oddly formal to sit in the large dining room when it was just the three of them, their forks echoing as they ate. "So, let me see if I have this right," Louisa said, sharing a glance with her sister. "Your mother's sister is Mrs. Phillips?"

"Yes," Jane answered, unsure where this line of questioning was heading.

Louisa smiled sweetly, looking a bit like a crocodile. "And they are from… where, exactly?"

There was no doubt what she was getting at, now. "He lives in Meryton. He's an accountant."

Caroline's smile was more like a Cheshire cat. "And I hear your mother's brother lives in Atlanta," Louisa continued.

"Yes, they live on Boulevard," Jane said, suddenly feeling dizzy. Maybe something she had eaten didn't agree with her.

Neither of the sisters noticed how pale Jane had become. "Remind me, what part of the city is Boulevard?" Her tone suggested that she already knew.

Jane didn't hear the question; her ears were ringing, and everything sounded far away. "Excuse me… I just…" She shook her head and dashed from the table, barely making it to the bathroom down the hall before her dinner made a reappearance.

When she stumbled back into the dining room, Caroline and Louisa jumped up to help her sit down. "Louisa, go get some ginger ale. I think Jane is sick," Caroline directed, not appreciating this turn of events. She wasn't the warm and caring type of person.

"I think I'll be fine if I just lay down for a moment," Jane said.

Nodding, Caroline led her into the living room, gesturing towards the couch. "You can rest here until the storm clears," she said, noting the thunder that sounded much closer than before. Jane gratefully took a seat, feeling more lightheaded every moment. The storm sounds were almost comforting as she promptly fell asleep.

* * *

The phone lines were thankfully back up in the morning after a brief outage from the storm. Lizzie could hear her mother talking on the kitchen phone all morning. Mrs. Bennet was right; Jane hadn't come home that night, but not for the reason she had planned. Louisa had called early in the morning, letting the Bennets know that Jane was sick; everyone assumed it was the flu, though she insisted she didn't need a doctor.

"I guess if Jane dies from this, at least it was in pursuit of Bingley. That should bring some comfort," Mr. Bennet proclaimed solemnly at breakfast.

Mrs. Bennet shot him a stern look. "Oh, what nonsense. People don't die of colds. They'll take good care of her, I'm sure." She had insisted it was in Jane's best interest to stay at Netherfield, claiming that her illness could be dangerous for Mary, who had a weak immune system. In reality, it was the excuse that was weak, but no one had the energy to call her on it. The rest of the family was busy cleaning up after the storm. Mrs. Bennet intended to encroach on the Bingley's hospitality as long as possible.

The thoughts running around Lizzie's head kept her unusually silent during breakfast. As the family finished eating, she finally spoke. "I think I need to go to Netherfield," she said, her tone leaving little room for argument.

"What? Go to Netherfield? There's no need for that." Mrs. Bennet frowned at the thought. "No, Jane is just fine where she is. And you know there is nothing for you there. You'd be much better off going with your sisters to visit the workers in Meryton."

Lydia's eyes brightened at the mention of the workers. "Yeah, Liz, there are more than enough to go around." She tried to wink at her sister but ended up looking more like she had an eyelash in her eye.

"I know Jane wants me to be there," Lizzie said, standing her ground. It was true, too. Jane was probably an anxious mess all by herself with a group of practical strangers.

Standing up, Mr. Bennet sighed. "I guess that means you'll want the Chevy," he said, indicating in his own way that he thought Lizzie should go as well.

Lizzie smiled at her father. "Oh, no, that's okay. I'd much rather walk. It's only a couple miles to Netherfield, and it's such a beautiful day." The air always seemed cleaner after a storm. She was looking forward to the chance to get out of their crowded house for a while. "I'll be back by dinner."

Her plan earned her another frown from Mrs. Bennet. "I suppose you'll take the shortcut, no doubt. Traipsing through all that mud, you won't be fit to be seen!"

She was right, Lizzie had intended to cut through the cornfield behind their house. "Well, I'll be fit to see Jane, and that's all that matters," Lizzie said, her mind made up.

* * *

The corn was almost ready for harvest; walking through the field was always an adventure. Mud pulled at her boots as Lizzie strolled through the rows, relishing in the clean air and privacy of the field. She knew that if she just followed the straight rows of corn, she would end up eventually in the pasture that connected to Netherfield's famous gardens. She'd explored those gardens countless times as a child. It was filled with secret hideaways, mazelike in its intricacy, and open to anyone who wanted to enjoy it.

Before she knew it, she was stepping out of the comforting shade of the corn and into the light of the pasture, the tree line of Netherfield's gardens within sight, just an expanse of flat, green openness. Lizzie felt the sudden urge to run. There was nothing she liked more than running through an open field; it was a thoroughly freeing experience.

She was so caught up in that perfect moment that she didn't notice Darcy as she broke through the trees, bursting into the garden out of breath and wild. He had paused in his walk, hearing the pounding of feet as she drew closer.

"Elizabeth," he said, raising his eyebrows at her sudden appearance.

There was something so ridiculous about his expression that she wanted to laugh. Instead, she bowed dramatically. "Darcy," she said, straightening up. "I've come to check on Jane."

Darcy had not quite regained his composure, still a little dazed from his quiet walk being interrupted by this whirlwind. "Through the field?"

"How else?" She grinned. "It's been a while since I've been in these gardens. Would you mind directing me to the house?" She didn't want to get lost in the maze of hedgerows, never to be seen again. Darcy just nodded, motioning for her to follow him. He said nothing else on the short walk back to the house.

* * *

Jane was, of course, thrilled to see her sister, though she insisted that she needn't have come. She looked far sicker than Lizzie had exooected, thinking that their mother was making it out to be more dramatic than necessary. But Jane was truly ill; her face looked tired and pale, and her eyes were dazed. Lizzie decided it was good that she was there. She was the person Jane needed the most when she was sick.

The look on Caroline's face when Lizzie strolled in behind Darcy, that alone made it a worthwhile trip. She wasn't expecting to see Lizzie in the mudroom, struggling with her boots while trying not to sling dirt everywhere. Her bare legs were already splattered with mud from the walk, and there was a leaf caught in her mess of hair.

"Well, she must be an excellent walker, I'll give her that," Louisa said snidely, sitting in the sunroom with her family, drinking a mint julep even though it was only early afternoon. "But lord, didn't she look a little crazed?"

Caroline was sitting next to her sister, reading Southern Living magazine and eyeing Darcy on the other side of the room. "I'm surprised I didn't fall to the floor!" She closed her magazine with purpose. "What's she up to, gallivanting around in the fields just because her sister has the sniffles? And her hair!"

Gossiping was the sisters' favorite pastime, and they were glad to have some fresh material. "Well, what about her legs? I hope you noticed that Charles," she demanded her brother's attention, who had been staring aimlessly out of the window, half listening. "There was mud right up to her knees, at least. And who knows what else." She sniffed daintily as if she could still smell the dirty girl.

"Honestly, I didn't even notice," Bingley said, shrugging. "I thought she looked fine, the fresh air brings out her color."

Frustrated, Caroline changed her tactic. "I'm sure you noticed, Darcy."

Darcy raised his eyes from the book he was reading and regarded Caroline carefully. "Yes, I did."

"And am I wrong to think you wouldn't want your sister to perform such a spectacle?" Caroline asked, arching an eyebrow.

He couldn't help but smile at the thought of his prim and proper little sister roaming through a cornfield alone, not to mention after a rainstorm. "Of course not," he said, making a mental note to get his sister out of doors more often.

Crossing her arms, Caroline sat back, triumphant. "It shows an unfortunate amount of stubbornness and independence, doesn't it?" Louisa nodded in agreement with her sister.

"It shows how much she cares for her sister, which I think is an admirable quality," Bingley said firmly, annoyed with his sisters' need to talk bad about everyone they encountered.

His words were ignored except for a subtle roll of the eyes from Caroline. "I'm afraid, dear Darcy, that this spectacle might damper your appreciation for her so-called fine eyes," Caroline simpered.

Darcy's eyes locked on Caroline's, which were far from being fine themselves. He gave her a small smile. "Oh, not at all. I think they were enhanced by the exercise." He took a sip of sweet tea to hide his smirk at her reaction. Caroline froze for a moment before glancing at her sister, begging her to help redirect the conversation.

"Jane really is a sweet kind of girl. It's a shame to be tethered to such an unfortunate family, so poorly connected." Louisa said, accurately interpreting her sister's eye signals.

It was easy for Caroline to regain her composure and pick up this train of thought. "Her uncle, she told us last night, does construction and lives in Old Fourth Ward," she said, her tone making it clear how she felt about that area.

Louisa smirked. "Maybe we should stop in and say hello next time we are in the city," she said, giggling with her sister at the thought.

"I would like them just as much even if they had enough uncles to fill all of south Atlanta," Bingley pronounced dramatically.

Now it was Darcy's turn to roll his eyes. He shook his head at his best friend's theatrics. "But with such a background, they wouldn't likely fit in or be accepted into the circles we travel. That's the point, Charlie." He hated agreeing with Bingley's sisters on anything, but their words were not without merit.

A gentle cough pulled their attention towards the doorway, where Lizzie stood awkwardly. Bingley jumped to his feet. "Lizzie! Come on in, sit down. How is your sister feeling?" No one had heard her come in. They all wondered how much of the conversation she had heard.

"She still seems very sick, I'm afraid," Lizzie said, clearly worried about her sister.

Bingley was anxious to clear up any residual awkwardness in the room. "I hear the local doctor still makes house calls under special circumstances. I'm sure we could make it worth his while. Here, let me give him a call." He moved towards the doorway, ready to do anything he could to make Jane and Lizzie comfortable.

An arm reached out to stop him. "Oh, no, that's okay," Lizzie blurted. "I'm sure she'll be fine with just a little bit more rest."

"Well, then she needs to stay here until she's feeling better. I know she wouldn't want to risk getting Mary sick. And you should stay as well, as long as y'all need to." Bingley sat back down, more pleased with this plan as he thought it over further.

Lizzie shook her head. "I don't want us to be a bother," she said, noticing Bingley's sisters sharing a loaded look. "We've already intruded enough."

But Bingley was more stubborn than she gave him credit for, and he wouldn't accept no for an answer. "Don't worry about. I'm sure one of your sisters would be happy to drop off some things for you later." And so it was decided; Lizzie would stay, camped out in hostile territory.

"Thank you, Charlie, that's very thoughtful," she said, hoping that Jane's sickness was milder than she thought. Bingley was perhaps the only person in the house that was pleased with this arrangement. For everyone else, it was sure to be a trial.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: If you are interested in the setting that inspired this story, let me direct you to the music video for "Sunday in the South" by Shenandoah. It was actually filmed in the town that I grew up in and captures the feeling and nostalgia that comes from living in that kind of sleepy southern town. You can check out my Wattpad for a playlist that elaborates on those feelings, as well as some inspiration pictures that help set the scene. More backstory and explanations are coming in later chapters, I promise.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Lizzie managed so spend much of the rest of the day camped out in the guest room where Jane was set up. She was happy to avoid socializing with the rest of the household as much as possible and was glad to be available to care for Jane and lift her spirits. But she knew she couldn't avoid making an appearance for dinner at the very least, which Charlie had stopped by to inform her would be ready around six o'clock. "We'll make sure to set aside a plate for Jane as well, to bring back to her room," he said sweetly, smiling at the pale figure napping in the guest bed.

It was nearing six when Lizzie decided she should at least try to do something with her unruly hair before heading to the dining room. She managed to wrangle it into a braid, Jane watching her carefully. "There, I won't be too much of a disgrace at least, don't you think?" Lizzie asked her sister wryly.

"You look gorgeous as always, and you know it," Jane sighed, shaking her head at her sister's antics.

Frowning, Lizzie sat on the bed. "I'd rather get a plate and eat in here with you," she said grumpily. "Those sisters would prefer me anywhere else, as well. The only civil one of the bunch is your Bingley."

Jane coughed, shaking her head. "He's not my Bingley, Lizzie," she said, as firmly as she could manage.

"Oh, I beg to differ," Lizzie said. "And if he isn't now, he will be soon enough." With that, she stood up, grinning at her sister. Jane couldn't help but smile back as Lizzie marched out the door as if she were heading to war.

Netherfield was impossibly large, something that Lizzie was just now fully grasping as she looked for the dining room. She should have paid more attention when Charlie showed her around earlier that day. There were noises coming from behind a door, though she couldn't quite make out what they were. Thinking it was possibly the dining room, she opened the door slowly.

It was not the dining room. She peered into a cozy study, complete with a pool table in the center and comfortable leather chairs scattered about the room. Someone was leaning over the pool table, lining up a shot with calculated precision. It was Darcy, his every movement steeped in confidence. He solidly tapped the cue ball, sinking the striped ball he'd been aiming for before standing up, satisfied. Lizzie watched quietly, impressed with the skill even in the dimness of the study.

Darcy must have felt her presence, because he turned suddenly, catching her staring. An uncomfortable moment passed where neither said a word. He finally gave her a small wave then turned back to his game. Lizzie decided it would be more awkward to say anything at that point, so she left to continue her search for the dining room.

* * *

After dinner, Charlie insisted that Lizzie should join them in the sunroom. "It's not good for you to be cooped up all night with Jane, and I'm sure she needs her rest," he said. Lizzie found it difficult to deny the man anything, with his puppy dog eyes and sweet disposition. She could certainly see what her sister liked about him. So, she agreed, on the condition that she would be allowed to read, claiming to be at a pivotal point in the novel she was working through. She went to grab her book and check on Jane. Charlie was right; Jane was fast asleep, having hardly touched the dinner Lizzie had brought her.

Settling into one of the chairs, she had to admit that it was very comfortable, lounging in the sunroom, listening to the cicadas. Bingley, his sisters, and Mr. Hurst were playing poker; it was obvious by the conversation that Mr. Hurst was winning. Lizzie wondered briefly where Darcy was, only for him to appear as if she had conjured him up.

"Oh good, Darcy, come help me. Hurst is cleaning house over here," Caroline said, pouting. Hurst slapped his cards down triumphantly, earning a collective groan from the other card players.

Darcy just gave a half-smile, sinking into a chair near Lizzie. "How is your sister?" he asked, pulling her attention away from the book she was pretending to read.

"She's feeling a bit better, thank you for asking," Lizzie said, surprised that he cared to ask after her at all.

He nodded, setting up the writing supplies he had brought in with him. "I'm glad, that's good to hear." He began writing, the conversation apparently over. _He's probably hoping we will leave soon, _Lizzie thought, shaking her head at the strangeness of the man.

At the table, Caroline's dramatics continued. "I'm going broke over here, Hurst," she said, loud enough to be heard by everyone. Her brother-in-law just chuckled, counting his earnings.

"Would you like to play, Lizzie?" Louisa asked, dealing out a new hand.

Lizzie shook her head firmly. "No, no, I'm fine, thank you."

Mr. Hurst made a dismissive sound. "You'd rather read than play poker? Very interesting," he said in a tone that made her think he didn't find it interesting at all.

"Oh, Lizzie hates playing cards," Caroline interjected, though Lizzie wasn't sure how she would know such a thing. "She's very well-read and finds little enjoyment in anything else." Her sister snorted.

It was exactly the sort of backhanded compliment that made Lizzie loath to spend time outside of Jane's temporary sanctuary. "I'm sure I don't deserve such a compliment or such an insult," she said, keeping her tone light and her expression pleasant. "I'm no more well-read than most people, and I enjoy a wide variety of activities."

The rest of the room was quiet, unsure of how to respond. Caroline cleared her throat uncomfortably. "And what are you doing so secretively over there, Darcy?" she asked, eager to change the subject once her initial target fought back.

Darcy looked up, annoyed at being pulled into the conversation. "There's no secret. I'm writing to my sister," he said flatly, wanting to get back to it.

"Sweet, dear Georgiana!" Caroline exclaimed, ignoring Darcy's eye roll. "Oh, I miss her so much! How much has she grown since I saw her last, is she as tall as me yet?" She straightened her back, showing off her admittedly impressive stature.

Deciding that he wasn't going to wriggle his way out of this discussion quite so easily, Darcy capped his pen. "No, I'd say she's about Lizzie's height, maybe a bit taller," he said, glancing at her. Lizzie wondered when he had a chance to take such precise note of her height.

Caroline ignored his pointed comment. "And she's so accomplished! She is incredibly talented on the piano. Do you play, Lizzie?"

"Oh, a little," Lizzie replied. "But not very often and not very well." The Bennet's had one, of course, but Mary was the one that preferred to play it.

Not pleased with this uncomfortable turn in the conversation, Charlie decided to intervene. "Aren't all young women accomplished these days?" he said good-naturedly. "They're all talented, they sing, dance, play instruments, speak all sorts of languages, do charity work and who knows what else."

Darcy was decidedly irritated with being pulled away from his letter. "There aren't more than half a dozen women who would meet my expectations of an accomplished young lady," he said grumpily.

Raising her eyebrows, Lizzie blinked in amusement but decided to hold her tongue and see where this line of thought was going. Caroline was more than willing to provide expound on the subject, one in which she considered herself an expert. "Of course, it's not just about the things you do. No one can really be considered accomplished without having something else about them, a certain manner in the way she carries herself," she said, nodding, looking to Darcy for approval.

"Beyond that," Darcy added, looking at Lizzie out of the corner of his eye, "she has to also work to improve her mind through learning, or maybe extensive reading." His smile was almost imperceptible as Caroline made a choked noise.

Lizzie tamped down the smirk that threatened to take over. "Well, I'm not surprised you only know six such 'accomplished' women, Darcy," she said. He turned towards her fully, waiting. "In fact, it's amazing that you know any at all," she continued, smiling sweetly.

"That's an awfully cynical view, isn't it?" Louisa said.

Shrugging, Lizzie picked her book back up. "It's the truth as I see it," she said.

Caroline turned back to the cards that had been dealt in front of her, annoyed. "Maybe, Lizzie, you haven't had the opportunity to spend much time outside of the company of your small-town society. I know many girls that fit the description."

There was no response from Lizzie, who just rolled her eyes and went back to her book. Darcy smirked, grateful that the interruption seemed to be over and he could go back to his letter.

"Well, are we going to play or not?" Mr. Hurst grumbled, waiting for everyone's attention to return to the game at hand. His wife and her siblings just groaned and looked at their cards.

* * *

The next day brought Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest daughters to check in on Jane's recovery. They were shown immediately to the guestroom, while the rest of the household lounged in the living room, escaping the oppressive heat of the afternoon.

"And the mother here now, as well. I swear, we are being invaded by every Bennet in the entire country. It's just too much!" Caroline said dramatically, dropping onto the loveseat next to her sister.

Mr. Hurst, ever oblivious, looked alarmed at this proclamation. He stood up, as if to escape, but was blocked by the group of women that were making their way down the long hallway. "Lord," he grumbled, sitting back down.

Standing up quickly, Charlie offered Mrs. Bennet a seat. "I hope Jane is doing better than you expected," he said nervously.

"I'm afraid not," Mrs. Bennet's voice was dripping with concern. "I think she's worse off than any of us thought. Very sick. Of course, she bears it all admirably. She really is the sweetest thing."

Lizzie's eyes widened with alarm at her mother's words, especially since she knew them to be mostly untrue. Jane was getting better every day. "But, I think, she is still too sick to come home," Mrs. Bennet continued, "so I'm afraid we may need to rely on your hospitality a bit longer."

There was no missing the eye-rolls that Caroline and her sister shared as Charlie hurried to answer. "Of course, it is no trouble," he said.

"We'll make sure Jane is as comfortable as possible, I can assure you," Caroline said with saccharine sweetness.

That seemed to satisfy Mrs. Bennet. "Y'all are too kind," she said. Looking around, she appraised the large living room they were in. "Well, you have such a nice home here. I would think you'll never want to go back to the city now that you are settled in here."

Charlie smiled, nodding. "I think I would be happy to stay in the country forever if I could. Wouldn't you, Darcy?" he asked, turning to include his friend in the conversation, as he had yet to speak to their guests.

"You would?" Darcy seemed genuinely surprised. "You don't find it somewhat… stifling and lacking in diversity?"

Whirling on Darcy, Mrs. Bennet raised her voice. "Stifling? Lacking in diversity? Absolutely not! The country is a great deal more pleasant than the city, no matter what you think about it." She crossed her arms with a nod as if that should be the final word on the subject.

The tirade was met with silence as Darcy just shook his head and walked towards the window. "Oh, momma, I think you misunderstood Darcy's meaning," Lizzie said, trying to smooth over the awkwardness that had settled in the room.

"Do I, now? He seems to think the country is worthless." She was not content letting the offensive man off so easily.

"Momma, please," Lizzie sighed, realizing it was probably a losing battle.

"Stifling, no diversity. I'll have you know, my hairdresser is Canadian!"

That last revelation made Caroline and her sister finally burst into a fit of laughter. They didn't even bother trying to hide it. Lizzie closed her eyes briefly, shaking off the embarrassment before trying to change the subject. "Has Charlotte been by in the last few days? I meant to call her, but I forgot," she said, attempting to distract her mother.

Mrs. Bennet smiled, an almost menacing expression. "Oh, as a matter of fact, she and Mr. Lucas came by yesterday," she said. "He's such a pleasant man, very agreeable. Now, that's what I call well-bred." The jab didn't escape anyone's notice, making Lizzie wince and Charlie look worriedly at his friend, concerned that he would continue to engage with the irate woman.

When no one responded, Mrs. Bennet took it as a sign to continue. "Then there are those who think themselves so significant but have nothing good to say for themselves. Well, I think they're mistaken about their importance," she said, settling herself primly on a chair with a look that said she thought she had won some great battle.

There was a quiet sneeze from Catie, drawing everyone's attention to the two younger Bennet girls. "Um, Charlie," Lydia decided to take control of the situation, glad to have all eyes on here. "Didn't you promise to throw a party once you were settled in? I'm sure we would all be disappointed if you didn't follow through." She smiled sweetly at him.

Charlie's relief was visible at this welcome change of subject. "Of course! I fully intend to keep my promise. As soon as your sister feels better. You can name the date if you want."

Turning to Catie, Lydia clapped her hands in excitement. Bingley's sisters looked far less thrilled, their expressions ranging from irritation to disgust.

"Well then, Lydia, isn't that just something," Mrs. Bennet said haughtily. "What a generous offer. Now, that's what I call a gentleman." She looked at Darcy, who was still by the window. He scowled, though Lizzie could only see it from the reflection in the window. She sighed, determined to get her mother out of the room as quickly as possible.

* * *

There was only so much time one person could spend reading. Lizzie met her limit more quickly than she would have thought, so she roamed the gardens as much as possible. Charlie's two Airedale Terriers were proving to be a welcome distraction, as well. They were far better company than the alternatives inside.

It was one of those rare breezy summer nights, so Charlie decided he wanted to spend the evening outside. Caroline had strung lights along the railing of the front porch, which Lizzie had to admit made the setting very relaxing and whimsical. It was exactly the kind of night that the Bennet girls would spend lying in the driveway, looking at the stars and watching lightning bugs. For some reason, Lizzie didn't think her current company would appreciate it if she went and laid down in the driveway.

Instead, the group watched the sunset sitting on the outdoor furniture that Lizzie was sure Caroline had recently purchased. The porch was well lit enough to still read, so Lizzie had her book at the ready, though she wasn't paying it much attention. Darcy was also reading, or perhaps pretending to read. Lizzie couldn't help but notice him staring at her more than once when he thought no one was watching. It was disconcerting.

"Won't you walk with me, Eliza?" Caroline said after walking around the circular driveway alone a few times. "It's strangely refreshing." Her words were directed at Lizzie, but she was staring at Darcy, who's focus remained fixed on his book.

Lizzie shrugged, thinking a walk didn't sound too terrible at the moment, even if it were with Caroline. She put her book down and the two walked around the circle once before Caroline sighted. "Why don't you join us, Darcy?" she said finally, realizing that he wasn't going to pay her any attention unless directly addressed.

He still didn't look up from his book. "That would defeat the purpose," he said, turning a page.

Happy now to get a reaction, Caroline smiled. "What on earth do you mean by that?" she asked, batting her eyelashes in a way that made Lizzie choke back a laugh.

"I think I'd rather not know," Lizzie said, struggling to keep her voice even and under control.

But Caroline wouldn't be thwarted so easily. She leaned on the porch railing near Darcy's chair, uncomfortably close. "Oh, no, we need to know what you mean," she said/

Darcy was determined to pretend he didn't notice Caroline's blatant attempts at flirting, which had grown increasingly obvious the longer the Bennet sisters were in residence. "Well, only that walking shows off your figure, in which case I have a much better view from my seat," he said blandly.

The remark drew a sharp snort from Louisa and a scandalized look from Caroline. "What an outrageous thing to say!" Caroline cried, lightly slapping his shoulder. "Naughty man. How should we punish him, Eliza?"

This time Lizzie didn't bother to hide her smile. She was surprised that Darcy was so openly poking fun at his best friend's sister, even if the woman herself didn't realize the extent. "Oh, that's easy," she responded, "tease him, laugh at him."

"Laugh at Darcy?" Caroline said as if it were the most ridiculous idea in the world. "Impossible. He's flawless."

"Oh, is he?" Laughing, Lizzie turned to Darcy to examine him, raising her eyebrows thoughtfully. "Flawless, hm?" Her eyes sparkled, crinkling in the corner to soften the joke.

Joke or not, it made Darcy uncomfortable to be the topic of such a conversation, especially so with Lizzie looking at him in such a way. "Of course, that's not possible," he said, clearing his throat. "But it has been my goal in life to avoid the weaknesses that might expose some to ridicule." He cringed inwardly, hoping that his words didn't sound as pretentious to her as they did to his own ears.

She bit her lip, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "Weaknesses. Like… vanity? Or maybe pride?" It was a well-aimed blow, hitting him in the exact place needed to raise his indignation.

"Yes, vanity is a weakness, I'll give you that," he said, suddenly serious, "but pride, well, there's nothing inherently wrong with it if someone has valid reasons to be proud."

Lizzie just grinned, as if his own words proved his point.

"I have faults, Elizabeth," he continued. "Though not the ones you're thinking, I hope. My temper, I can't excuse that. Some people have called me resentful." He shot a look at Bingley, leaning on the railing across the porch. Bingley looked away quickly and pretended to be fascinated with the stars. "My respect, once lost, is lost forever," Darcy finished solemnly.

There was silence for a moment as Lizzie considered his words thoughtfully. "I'd say that is a fault, for sure, though I won't laugh at you for it," she said, a half-apology for poking fun at him.

Darcy accepted her words with appreciation. "I think everyone has a tendency towards some inherent badness," he said, looking up at her.

"Ah, so your fault is a propensity to hate everyone," she said before she could think better of her words, forgetting herself and her present company. It was the kind of thing she would say without regret to Jane or Charlotte, but Darcy was neither her sister or her best friend. The words were out before she could stop them, and Darcy's reaction was instant.

"And yours is to willfully misunderstand them," he said with more force than he intended. He had no idea what it was about this woman that riled him so easily, but he didn't like it at all.

With wide eyes, Charlie looked between the two, unsure what to do. Thankfully, Caroline stepped in, not liking the sparks that were flying any more than her brother did, though for different reasons. "Hey, let's go watch a movie," she said, pulling her sister out of her seat and shuffling everyone inside. Charlie smiled gratefully at her, joining in the efforts of getting the group inside and separating the two firecrackers. Darcy and Lizzie stared at each other for one more moment before Lizzie turned and headed in, going towards the guestroom instead of the living room. She could almost feel Darcy's stern eyes on her back as she walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

The day of their departure had finally arrived. No one was more grateful for it than Lizzie, who was practically giddy with excitement. She would have been more than happy to walk straight home, but their father was bringing over the truck so that they could load up their things, including Jane's bicycle, the wretched thing that started this entire debacle.

"Please, tell your mother 'hello' for us," Charlie said as they watched the truck pull up the driveway. He waved at Mr. Bennet as the older man got out to help his daughters with their things. "And you're welcome to come fishing with us any time you like," he added.

Mr. Bennet just smiled, knowing he would be unlikely to take up the offer. "Thank you, Charlie," Jane said sweetly. "Y'all have been incredibly kind, I don't know how to thank you enough."

Smiling, Charlie helped Jane up into the truck. "It was my pleasure," he said before stepping back and closing the door. He watched as they drove back down the driveway, sorry for the loss of their company.

Inside the house, Darcy watched from the front window with relief. It was good that they were gone; out of sight, out of mind, he hoped.

"Isn't it nice to be alone again, at last?" Caroline's question from her spot on the couch pulled Darcy's attention. "I was getting tired of constantly having guests. Though, I'm afraid you'll miss a certain someone's scathing opinions and fine eyes, Darcy."

Darcy couldn't help but smirk at her words. She didn't take into account the fact that he was technically a guest in the house, as well, not being a part of the family. But that didn't really matter to him. As for the suggestion that he was going to miss the presence of Lizzie Bennet, well, "Quite the opposite, I can assure you," he said tersely.

As soon as they pulled onto the road, Lizzie let out a sigh. "Lord, Jane," she said. "I hate to say it, but I've never been so happy to leave anywhere in all my life. Apart from your sweet Charlie, that is."

Jane just smiled at her sister's dramatics, already feeling the emptiness at leaving Netherfield behind. As soon as they arrived back at their home, Lizzie burst out of the truck and took off into the pasture. Her father chuckled as he watched her leave. It seemed like she was in no danger from the likes of Darcy.

It was that evening, while the Bennet family sat eating dinner together, that Mr. Bennet made his announcement. "I hope you haven't made other plans for tomorrow, my dear," he said to his wife, with all their daughters listening attentively. "I expect we will have someone over for dinner tomorrow evening if I'm not mistaken."

Mrs. Bennet's eyes lit up in surprise. She looked over at her eldest daughter. "Jane, you sly dog, why didn't you say anything?"

Eyes wide with confusion, Jane looked across the table at Lizzie, who shrugged. "And not a bit of steak in the house," Mrs. Bennet continued, looking flustered. "Oh, Lydia, bring me the phone. I'll have to call the butcher directly and see what can be done."

Jumping up, Lydia started to make her way into the kitchen to grab the phone for her mother. "It's not Bingley," her father's solemn words stopped her in her tracks. "It's a person I've never actually met before," he continued.

"Oh, is it Forester?" Lydia gasped.

Kitty cut in, "Or Carter?"

"No, no, it must be Denny!" Lydia clapped her hands, giggling as she sat back down.

Their father just rolled his eyes at their antics. "A few weeks ago, I received a call at work while I was at lunch. My secretary took the message, and a few days ago I decided to return the call since it seemed important."

His family stared at him with varying degrees of good humor, waiting for the punch line. "It was from my stepbrother's son, Collin, who as I'm sure you all know, will be able to take possession of the house as soon as he pleases when I die."

Mrs. Bennet practically growled at her husband's words. "Please, do not even mention that man in my house! It is unthinkable, that he should be the one to get the house and not one of our own poor, fatherless children. Is there no justice in the world?"

It was a subject that Mrs. Bennet could speak on for days. The legal workings of the will of Mr. Bennet's father had been reviewed by more lawyers than they could afford to pay for. Every one of them claimed it was legally sound, if quite unfair. But there was nothing they could do; the house would go to the stepbrother or his heirs on the event of Mr. Bennet's death. The will was very specific on the terms. Legally, the house did not belong to the Bennet family, they were just allowed to live there.

"It's true, nothing can clear the man for his crimes against humanity in inheriting the house," Mr. Bennet said, putting a stop to his wife's antics. "But I think if you hear what he has to say, it might make you feel a little more generous towards him. Here, I also have a note he sent over after the delay in returning his call."

He pulled out from his pocket a folded piece of lined notebook paper. Unfolding it, he cleared his throat and began to read in a dramatic voice. " 'Dearest uncle, I've long felt uneasy about the strained relationship between you and my father. Since I've had the great misfortune to lose my loving father—' " Mr. Bennet paused to shoot Lydia a stern look as she snorted, " 'my loving father, it's felt only right to heal the breach between our two families.' There, ain't that just the thing, then."

He handed the note to Lizzie, who finished reading it out loud to the family.

_"My mind is made up on the subject. After having received my master's degree in botany from Auburn University this past year, I've had the privilege of becoming the groundskeeper of the grand estate and gardens belonging to Mrs. Catherine De Bourgh. I'm sure you've heard of her formidable estate in Tennessee, where I have taken up residence in one of the numerous ancillary houses on the estate grounds. She has generously provided not only fulfilling work for my hands but also peace for my mind, and continues to encourage me to make amends in order to spread that peace to all who wish to partake of it. I am, of course, keenly aware of the moral injury that has been brought upon your family and your lovely daughters due to circumstances outside my control. Therefore, I am willing to undertake whatever must be done to satisfy the need for justice on this account._

_That is why I have decided to visit you and your family at your home. I will plan to come on the eighteenth of this month. Please, if this is not a convenient time, my phone number is included in both this note and the message I've left with your secretary. Until then, I look forward to seeing you and finally putting to rest this great family feud."_

There wasn't much else to say. It seemed Collin was coming, whether the Bennet family was ready or not. Lizzie couldn't help but wonder what kind of strange man her step-cousin was, judging from his verbose letter and strange manner of writing. She could only guess what his intentions were, reaching out to her family after all these years of silence.

* * *

The man in the white Mazda Miata pulled up to the Bennet's house as if he owned the place. Though Lizzie supposed, he technically did. The family watched from the front window as the car made its way up the driveway. "And here he comes," Mrs. Bennet said ominously.

"He can't be a normal person, can he?" Lizzie asked, thinking back to his letter. She had to admit, she was very curious.

Mrs. Bennet sighed, standing up in preparation to answer the door. "Well, I suppose if he wants to make amends, who are we to discourage him?" She looked as if she were preparing for battle.

The doorbell finally rang after what felt like too many minutes passed. Mrs. Bennet waited a moment before she opened the door. "You must be Collin! Come in, come in, welcome to our home."

For all her faults, Mrs. Bennet did her best to make the uninvited and unwanted guest feel welcome. The girls all stood up to greet their step-cousin, who on first impression seemed as ridiculous as they were led to believe. He was a portly young man, probably in his mid to late twenties, perhaps just a few years older than Jane. Yet, those years had not been as kind to the man. He was freckled from work out of doors, though he currently wore a large-brimmed straw hat. His long-sleeved denim shirt was tucked into classic wash denim jeans, both of which were entirely unsuitable for the current heatwave. A muddy pair of Timberland boots completed his ensemble. Mrs. Bennet cast a dismayed glance at those boots as he came inside, neglecting to take them off before making his way further into the house.

Mr. Bennet arrived home from work just moments after Collin's arrival, much to his family's relief. Lizzie wasn't sure what to say to this odd man and couldn't fathom entertaining him for much more than a few minutes. She wondered how long he planned to stay.

"Oh, uncle Robert, auntie Francine!" Collin exclaimed as they all sat down in the for dinner in the dining room. "I am so glad to finally meet you both."

It was a struggle for Lizzie to fight back the laughter that bubbled up at practically everything the man said. She needn't have worried about entertaining him; he was quite content entertaining himself. It was hard for any of the Bennets to get a word in edgewise while Collin spoke at length about his job and the estate where he worked.

"It sounds like you've been very fortunate in finding a good job with a kind… boss," Mr. Bennet said, taking advantage of a pause in the constant stream of information from the other man.

Collin hastily swallowed the bite of food he had taken. "Mrs. Catherine De Bourgh," he said. "Oh yes, she has been the picture of kindness and amiability. I would have never dreamed to stumble upon such a wonderful position as the one I have at Rosings Park. In fact, Mrs. De Bourgh has twice in the last two months invited me to dinner with her at the main house." He looked around to make sure that the Bennets were suitably impressed by this information.

Speaking quickly to cover over his daughters' strangled laughter, Mr. Bennet responded, "Twice? Is that so?"

"Do you live near the main house, then?" Mrs. Bennet asked.

It was obvious that the questions please Collin, who was more than willing to answer them. He sat down his fork, apparently too interested in the conversation to continue eating at the moment. "Very near, in fact. My cottage is in one of the main gardens, separated from the estate house by only a hedgerow."

There was a twinkle in Mr. Bennet's eye. "Only a hedgerow? Hm, imagine that, Lizzie," he smiled sweetly at his daughter, who was quickly losing the battle against her laughter.

Mrs. Bennet steadfastly ignored her family's antics. "I think you said Mrs. De Bourgh was a widow, didn't you? Does she have any other family?" She asked, turning her back on her snickering daughter.

"Yes, ma'am, she has one daughter," Collin answered, seemingly oblivious. "She will of course inherit Rosings, along with a significant amount of other properties and stock holdings."

Money was something Mrs. Bennet was always willing to discuss, especially when wealthy young ladies were involved. "A very fine young lady, I'm sure. What university did she attend?"

Collin frowned, indicating his regret at his next bit of information. "Unfortunately, miss Anne is a somewhat sickly young lady. Her constitution prevented her from attending a large university, so she acquired further education through private tutors and correspondence courses. It really is a sad state of affairs, since she has a very bright mind and I'm sure would have contributed greatly to the academic world." He smiled again, looking around the table. "I've had to opportunity to tell her so myself on several occasions. You can imagine that she appreciated the compliments, as all young ladies do."

A fit of coughing pulled everyone's attention to Lizzie, who waved away their concern, her cheeks turning red. Lydia smirked at her, earning a swift kick under the table.

"You're very fortunate, Collin, to have such a talent for flattery and graces with the ladies," Mr. Bennet said, somehow keeping a perfectly straight face. "Might I ask, do your complements come on spur of the moment, or do you plan them out beforehand?"

Lizzie almost choked on her water but somehow managed to avoid aspirating her drink at her father's words. She didn't know how much more of this she could take.

With a worried glance at Lizzie, Collin turned his attention back to Mr. Bennet. "They are mostly thought up in the moment, as they just come to me readily when I am with a lovely young lady. Though, I admit, sometimes I will write them down if I stumble upon one that works particularly well. I do try to give as natural compliments as possible, though. It's important, also, to remember what compliments you've paid to which ladies, to avoid saying the same thing twice."

Hiding his smirk behind a napkin, Mr. Bennet nodded. "Fascinating," he said.

Collin looked around the table happily, admiring the lovely family his step-uncle had produced. His smile widened as his eyes landed on Jane, the loveliest of them all. She could feel him staring at her but refused to meet his eyes, choosing instead to examine the food on the plate in front of her.

The air was cooler as the sunset, so the family went outside after dinner. Mary made her way to the swing hanging from the large oak tree at the front of the house, content to sit quietly with her own thoughts. Catie and Lydia decided to play a game of corn hole while Lizzie and Jane walked around the yard, talking. Their mother sat on the porch with Collin, watching the girls in their amusements. Mr. Bennet had escaped to his office directly after dinner, claiming some unfinished business that needed attending.

"I have to say, auntie Francine, your daughters are all the picture of charm and grace," Collin said, eying Lizzie and Jane as they passed by on their stroll.

Mrs. Bennet smiled. "Oh, you're too kind, Collin. Though, they are all very sweet girls, if I do say so myself."

Nodding, Collin laced his fingers and rested them on top of his protuberant belly. "I think, perhaps, Jane seems especially sweet in her manners," he proclaimed.

Mrs. Bennet's eyebrows shot up at that. "Oh, well, yes. She is loved by anyone who meets her, that's for sure." She paused for a moment, trying to figure out what this strange man was hinting at. "Though I must say, there is one man, in particular, that seems to love her, more than others if you know what I mean."

It seemed that Collin did know what she meant, for he frowned in frustration. "I see," he sighed.

"But, of course, the younger girls, I don't think any of them have any prior attachments," Mrs. Bennet continued. "The youngest ones aren't quite mature enough, anyway, but I do worry about Lizzie. It's every mother's hope to see her daughters happy and in love one day. Lizzie has her own struggles, being so close in age to Jane and always in her shadow."

Collin just nodded again, refocusing his attentions to the second oldest sister. Sure, she wasn't nearly as pretty and polite as Jane, but he could see Lizzie had her qualities. He smiled to himself as he watched the two sisters walking. Maybe something would come of this trip, after all.


End file.
